I Miss You
by Pen Against Sword
Summary: One of my first fics, way back from the dark ages. Read at your own risk. Full of early teenage angst and horrible emo descriptions. Oh, the agony of bad writing.


Pen: Because fanfiction suddenly has a problem with ALL songfics, and say that they should be taken off or the story will be removed (which would be removing about a third of all fictions) I have to edit this. You cannot imagine how angry I am right now. I wish that they would remove worthless shit like the stuff that I see everyday instead of worrying about all the GOOD stories.

-1-

The anxiety overtook him again. The sorrow, the emptiness. He was a slave to the darkness. His fingers tingled with the familiar searing, yet not painful, heat, as the flames erupted from his fingertips, slowly eating away until they had engulfed him completely. The scalding heat felt good in contrast to the dank forest floor, the damp threatening to chill him through.

Crimson eyes peered ahead in an unfocused state as though remembering something missed, or long forgotten. If he wasn't careful, he was going to set the forest on fire. He looked down at his fingertips and sighed as the flames diminished until reaching that area, flickering and glowing, dancing at his will, to his control.

_Don't waste your time on me _

_You're already the voice inside my head_

He could hear her voice. He could hear her footsteps. Her tinkling laughter, her skin soft upon his own as she leaned her head against his shoulder. Her voice was inside his head and nothing could rid him of it. He shook his head, snarling angrily, frustrated, cold, lonely, while his black hair, that seemed to defy gravity and its laws, flew wildly.

Savagely, he stood and raised a hand to the nearest tree, an oak, and flames consumed it hungry, needy, licking at the burning flesh of the tree before him. He watched in morbid satisfaction as the tree met its end by his own hand, slowly but surely, fading from existence. He scowled. Was this what he was? Was this what he was destined to be? Consumed by madness and the cold searing pain of the dark?

Why would she have ever wasted her time on him in the first place? Why would she bother? His appearance had never startled her. She had seen much worse. He could see her now, only curiosity lighting her face as she gently pulled away the white strip of cloth that hid his third eye, violet and menacing. She had not gasped or drawn away in shock, just stared at him gently. No, there was no pity there, only understanding. Silent, gentle understanding.

She had reached a hand up and gently brushed her creamy fingertips over the lid of that eye. Soothing his tense body into an unexpected calm. A calm so welcoming, that he drowned in it. Her soft lips had brushed against his third eye and he had tensed momentarily, again suspecting the worst. Electric tingling coursed through his body and hers when this brief touch was made and he had shuddered, wanting more of the sweet, pure sensation.

Soothing words whispered into his ears when the darkness that he eluded came too near, too overwhelming. Warm breath and the tickling sensation that came with it, sending the familiar waves of sensation down his body, betraying his cold exterior. Gentle hands, working at knots in his muscles. Wearing away at the walls of his mind. Eroding his resolve, until slowly and surely, defenses were down. More soothing words. Mortal flame in the hearth. Soft skin of fingertips brushing his closed eyelids and loose strands of hair.

The darkness that he drowned in, that threatened to consume him. He could see the surface of the black water, but the more that he struggled, the more that he thrashed, trying to escape claws that gripped and pulled deeper into the self-hatred, the loathing, the despair.

He remembered when he had watched her. In the clearing of grass she had moved like a snake, limber and sinuous. Her movements were beautiful and lethal at the same time. He had watched as her gleaming sword swept through the air and cut it into pieces. He had watched, as her giant boomerang had cut down trees in a ruthless motion, all while she danced in her lethal battle. Just like a snake, beautiful, but watch your step.

Rain, soft and cool, like her pale delicate hands. Drops kissing his face as he shivered from the chill. The tree fire was doused and steam was drawn from it. He inhaled deeply, smelling the aroma of charred wood and oak. Deep and forest-like. Her scent had been this way. Cedar and pine. Her laughter like bubbling brooks over mossy rocks, slick with humidity and mist.

The rain was pouring now and he could catch the drops pattern, making it sound to his ears like familiar footfalls. He shook his head. There was no getting her back. He desperately fought against this, but some niggling sense in the back of his mind prodded and touched at his little doubts returning him to the darkness with which he fought.

"Hiei," a soft voice sounded. Tentative, cautious, concerned. He knew that voice and whirled. A soft body was suddenly pressed against his and he shook with her sobs.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered in his ear.

"No," he whispered back, "I'm sorry."

"We're both sorry," she said and he could feel a smile split her features as her face was pressed into his neck. For the first time that she had ever seen, a genuine smile lit his face. She pressed her lips against his softly, the gentleness of it saying more than anything else could have.

"I missed you, Hiei."

"I...missed you, too." Gently they rocked back and forth swaying to the music of their hearts beating in unison as a woman with blue hair and a baby with a pacifier watched from their seats in the clouds high above. With a wave of the baby's hand, the bright red sun broke through the clouds, smiling upon Fate's new pair, the ones that she had taken under her wing.

-1-

To my reviewers, it's Botan, Koenma, and omg, people. It's NOT KAGOME! DOES KAGOME THROW A BOOMERANG? NOOOOOO! IT'S FREAKING SANGO! Cookies to those who got it.


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